


Love Talk

by Entwife_Incognito



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: F/M, Fluffy, Get-away, Romance, Smutty, Sweet love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 07:02:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8318383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entwife_Incognito/pseuds/Entwife_Incognito
Summary: Fall is crisp on the air, making everyone frisky! Jane and Lisbon find words to confess just how deep their love and passion go. Maybe a little sweet, but I hope it's enjoyable. One-shot, Red John is dead. Disclaimer: I own nothing of The Mentalist.This fic was first posted at FFnet on September 8, 2013. Now here, with refining edits.





	

Something fresh filled the air, something coming down the mountains with the cool breezes. Not like cool breezes from the ocean, not moist, not salty. It was dry and full of evergreen, of pinecones bursting their seed into the deep needle litter below. Late in the afternoons, the deep freeze above sucked the heat and dust from the lowlands, creating a turmoil of sudden mountain storms. In the mornings it carried the sharp scent of frozen water, frost on the leaves or overnight snow in the upper peaks. It was fall, and in the mountains the landscape was changing. The first fall after the death of Red John. And they were together, a couple!  


Patrick Jane was frisky as the wolves at the timberline. Teresa Lisbon had never seen him in such a playful, happy mood. It was as infectious as the foreshadowing weather, and she caught it, jostling and dancing with him just for the joy of being alive together. Love danced there, too, and made Lisbon brave, her mood changing from bubbling delight to bottomless well in a whirl. She grabbed his arm mid-frolic to pull him in for a kiss. She drew him close and slowed them down, speaking low into his ear.  


"I love you, Patrick Jane. It overwhelms me."  


Jane moved his ear closer to her mouth to encourage her to continue and to catch every word of her confession.  


Caressing the muscle from his arm to his neck, her tone was quiet but urgent. "Your shoulders, so broad and powerful. They've carried many burdens, finally to lay the last one at my feet. So that you could dance with me this minute. These arms that hold me and protect me, that pull me in close to love me as I have never been loved in my life. "  


He couldn't help but pull her tighter to his chest as she gave these beautiful words to him. She pressed into the full length of his torso, then pushed away, placing her hand over his heart. Its radiating warmth went straight into his chest.  


"Who you are with me . . . comes from here." In the silence they kept, she stared at her hand, beating with his heart. "You give me your life. You cherish mine." Teresa looked into his face, each lover mesmerized in rapt attention to the other.  


Her hand caressed his side, sliding to the top of his leg, her fingers wrapping toward a fleshy cheek. "Your snaking hips that power drill me into ecstasy over and over. Your legs that have carried me in sleep so gently I never even knew it as a dream."  


Patrick nuzzled her neck but she pulled apart from him, loosening their embrace to take his hand, to press and spread the full width of his fingers across her belly. She rested her small hand on his, both now riding there.  


"These beautiful hands that gently span the width of my body, that hold me as precious and tender cargo. Your long, nimble fingers that play my body like a delicate instrument, one that you adore and where you constantly compose new music."  


The heat of Lisbon's words kindled Jane's desire for her and he captured her mouth and stilled them both to concentrate on the kiss. She reached between his legs for what she knew she would find there, breaking the kiss.  


"Your heavy cock, so rigid inside me, that fulfills the promises you make with your voice and your tongue when you make love to me." A breath choked in her throat, desire overtaking her. "Now, Jane."  


He picked her up for the short leg to the bedroom and they made love that wasted no time for completion and left them both sated, panting for breath, sealed with declarations of love and constancy.  


Jane caught her for another kiss as they were dressing. "I love when you talk to me so passionately, Teresa. Your words fuck the breath from my body. Thank you."  


When Lisbon broke away, she said, "Let's get away together. Let's take a trip to the mountains! Stay a night or two."  


"The mountains? So impetuous!" A dreamy smile broke over his face. "The mountains."  


With no more thought, Jane was up for it immediately and Lisbon started working on the arrangements. Booking two nights at a small bed and breakfast that was highly rated with many complimentary comments logged, Lisbon arranged their time off from work.  


"That looks good, Lisbon. All comfy and cushy. And a giant bed to roll you around in." He hugged her from behind, rocking their bodies in his excitement.  


The bed was indeed large, not just king but with a deep plushy featherbed over the mattresses. It was dressed with ruffle-edged crisp white linen, lofty comforters and six plump pillows. An old-fashioned pitcher and basin sat on table by a window. The room was in a quiet corner on the second floor, screened windows open to the cleansing air.  


The couple passed the evening until bedtime, drinking champagne on the balcony that opened from the room's French doors. Birds, frogs and insects had been calling since dusk like a jungle movie. The night was pitch and dotted in infinite layers of dizzying stars. They both recalled another night on a balcony under the stars during a recent meteor shower, Teresa's night, as Jane called it and he remembered succumbing to her wild feminine nature and made profound love to him there as he would never expect from anyone again. And of course, he hoped he would be proved wrong! But not on this balcony. Too much danger of frostbite on important anatomy!  


The air chilled rapidly outside, but the couple warmed in the shower and dove under the covers like burrowing rabbits. Lisbon insisted on leaving the windows cracked to catch the night air and Jane relented, tucking her at his belly and chest until they were both overcome with lust after touching each other into near madness. Jane eventually rolled Lisbon's hips onto a pillow and penetrated her so deeply she practically sang her orgasm. It was no less pleasurable for him.  


The sun rose through the side window, and soon coaxed Jane from where he had nested his head at Lisbon's breast, hugging her waist and buried completely under the bedcovers. It was shining hot already, deceiving the night.  


After a hearty breakfast of eggs, biscuits, bacon and ham, sluiced down with cups of wonderful tea and coffee, the hostler provided them with a heavy-laden picnic basket for their afternoon trek. They were in Jane's Citroen. By the sound of the engine, it didn't seem to like the mountains much, but it handled well and toughed out the thin air. They picnicked in a deserted mountain meadow and leaned into each other's arms with full stomachs and sticky lemonade in the corners of their mouths, eventually falling to the blanket, spooning in their clothes, lulled to sleep by the warm sunshine.  


Opting for a light, cold supper they could enjoy at leisure in their room, the two retired for the night, sipping hot mocha from a generous thermos. By the time they had showered and tumbled into bed, the day, the fresh air and the exercise had caught up with them. They fell asleep with a light kiss.  


When Lisbon awoke, it was mostly dark in the room, but the window hinted the softening shadows of approaching dawn. The scent of the room had changed, something spicy with a muted sensuality-- but a note of fruit interfered with it, their shampoo. The still silence of night, carried a barely audible rustling movement of linen on linen as the level of her body shifted, dipped by someone else's movement. A nose nuzzled the well of her eye, tickling itself with the tips of her lashes. She breathed another's warm, sweet breath. No alarm bells sounding, sleep pulled her back under. But someone would not let her drown there.  


Warm fleshy lips pressed against her temple, small suckling noises interspersed with a whispered, "I love you. Don't wake. Just be here with me." An easy hand spanned her entire belly, a soft, circling caress, more electric because it was barely felt, rippling tickles into her core. A voice floated whispers, his voice, tickling her ear, "Teresa. Teresa. I love you. You're my heart, my darling girl." A smile bloomed on her face, eyes still shut, not wanting to wake from what might be a sweet dream.  


Other fingers feathered her hairline, smoothing it back, telling her how silky it was, what a beautiful chestnut color in the sunshine, how the waves curled from his hand and fingers like a waterfall.  


"I love how you smell. Cinnamon and vanilla, the sweat steam that pours off you, carrying the sweet top notes, when you've been chasing someone or taking them down. I imagine the steam of musk that must be coming from between your legs that only those wrestling with you will sample. The wet there that is a mix of your sweat and your excitement. I'm jealous and I want to get into you right then just to know if it's really there, not my imagination, even what it tastes like." He licked the shell of her ear, tracing the edges. "I want to know everything about you."  


Teresa's eyes opened to slits, awake in the gray light, soaking lazily in Patrick's love.  


His hand skimmed so lightly, it appeared almost as an apparition at her breasts, caressing them. "Your breasts fill my hand, so firm, the skin so creamy, the pink of your nipples that remind me of the tips of strawberries when you're aroused."  


Fingertips circled the aureoles, dimpling them and raising the nipples, pressing them between thumb and forefinger. Taking the closest breast between his wet lips, he kissed it fully, toying the nipple with his tongue, kissing the sensitive side, nuzzling the sweet, warm scent under her arm. Then, he kissed his way to the other nipple and feathered the side of that breast with his fingers.  


Her hips shifted under his attentions and he noticed her open eyes. "Your hips always curl to me when I play at your breasts."  


The restless response of her legs left them parted a little.  


Now she stirred, but he shushed her, "Quiet, now, just lie there and let me tell you how much I love you, how many things I love about you." She sighed and relaxed, staying the kisses her lips wanted to give.  


"See how your stomach dances when I touch it? When I touch your belly, Teresa, you respond to me so immediately, your blood rushes to the surface, flushing excitement like bouquets of tiny rosebuds scattered on the milky gown of your skin."  


He pushed her hair aside to kiss her ear again and she moaned on her breath, deep, needing more air to feed the heat growing inside. Kissing the shell, licking the lobe, nibbling the edge, he whispered, always whispering his deep love of wherever he touched.  


Picking up her hands, he kissed her fingers. "These hands give me so much pleasure, touch me until I explode with joy." He flexed his hips towards her so that she felt his penis, heavy with blood and lying on her thigh as he curled into her side. "What you do to me, just thinking about you, watching you. I come for you a thousand times a day in my mind. Whenever I think of you, I dream of being inside you until I rupture in ecstasy."  


She reached for the blood weight that lay heating on her leg, but he stayed her hand. "Wait, wait for me, my darling. I want to tell you everything in my heart this moment."  


"Feel how my fingers know you, touching you only to give you pleasure, to flush your love cries so that I can hear them like notes of music from your beautiful throat, just for me, just for us. Listen to your cries with me."  


Rubbing the apex of her sex to spread it open, he massaged the hard bud there at the same time. His middle fingertip held up the hood as his flattened fingers pressed against her clitoris, circling, stroking it in and out of its hood, forcing the tip along the minute ridges of his fingerprints. Her voice responded with her hips, sighing a cry as they bucked softly up to press into the petting fingers. His engorged cock rolled rhythmically at the top of her thigh as she moved and his own hips pressed her again and again.  


Tears ran from the corners of her eyes and he kissed them, drinking them in. "I love the tears of your pleasure, like a gift, sweet water from your own body."  


Her breath drew in a gale and her body froze in ecstasy as he continued to rub her clit, waiting for the paroxysms to start. "Oh . . . yes . . come now, come against my hand, my beautiful girl."  


Finally her breath and body released the orgasm, shaking and convulsing in pleasure, a series of cries, as he soothed her sex with his whole hand, closing against its soft flesh, squeezing and petting as she calmed, her moisture welling between his fingers.  


"That's it. Stay, Stay. I want to kiss you there, fill my mouth with you like ripe peaches until I am dripping with your juices." He moved down on her, to kiss and hold great mouthfuls of her, making her lips slide against his as he released each one, then using his face to push open her thighs, golden curls caressing their sensitive surface as he moved hungrily on her.  


Then, like a whisper he was at her face, wet with her, kissing her mouth and laying his weight full on her. "Open your eyes, love. Let me in now. Open your eyes so I can watch as I fill you up."  


He looked at her, nearly lost. "Your eyes burn me with bright green fire and when they catch, your lips seek me to capture me, draw me into your heat."  


He looked in her eyes with love as real as the electric heat that rolled in her groin, setting off another orgasm as he seated himself in her and she arched helplessly against him, saying, "Patrick, Patrick my love, I love you, I love you inside me."  


He cried out then, "Ahhhhh! How you squeeze me, look at what you do to me, look at me, sweetheart." His eyes were dilated, tears rolling from the corners, then along his mouth to drip from his lower lip. "Your soft warmth closes on me, begs me to come, to give up, but I'm not ready. I'm not through loving you."  


He slid in and out of her spasms, gently and slowly so that he could feel the fullness of each one, gripping him as if to remind him her body knew every ridge and vein. "You don't have to move. Just let me feel you inside, rolling on every surface. Feel me . . . just feel me loving you with my own hard flesh, what I was born to do, what it was born to do. To stroke you and fill you and love you and wash you with seed for your babies when you want them."  


He spiraled and swirled, rode her high and low but easy until he felt her hips loosen and catch his complicated rhythm, looking into each other's eyes as if they were both hypnotized, one body together. When she arched and squeezed him the next time, he saw it roll in and was ready for her, spilling into the waves of her climax as she milked him with a softly gripping glove, radiating heat.  


When she could speak, Lisbon asked, "Why did you say those things to me? It's not like you."  


"I love you, Teresa. I wanted you to know while I made love to you, tell you everything about it that entered my mind."  


Putting a hand to his cheek, she cupped it, looking into his eyes. "Thank you. It was such a wonderful present. Like poetry."  


He smiled, snuggled into her neck and dozed with her under the sunlight that struck them through the morning window.


End file.
